We had to book it a year in advance, and it cost us a fortune, but the five of us got a house on the beach for spring break our senior year. Bryce and I only had Tuesday/Thursday classes, so we headed down to the beach right after our Thursday afternoon classes, and the plan was for the other guys to catch up with us on Friday afternoon. Our job as the advanced detail crew was to get the keys from the rental company, get the place all set up, and make a liquor-store run.

Bryce and I had been instant friends since freshman year. Over the years at college, our group of five guys became our own private, miniature fraternity. We hung out together, partied together, and were all-around best friends. Between job offers, grad school, and a year oversees for the one of us with rich parents, we were literally scattering to the ends of the earth after graduation. We knew this trip was going to be our last big hoorah, which is why we were willing to spend the small fortune it took to rent a whole house for over a week during spring break.

Bryce kinda shocked our little social circle last year by announcing that he was bi-sexual. Most of us didn’t care, but most of us didn’t really understand it either. All of us had dated women, and even after his little announcement, Bryce did as well. We all assumed other things were going on, but if they were, he was effectively keeping them to himself. For the most part, I had kept my mouth shut about the whole thing because despite my sufficiently visible dating life, I was still a virgin and had started to wonder if females were really my cup of tea. Bryce’s announcement cut a little close to the bone for me, and although I wasn’t cold to him about it, I wasn’t effusively supportive either. Frankly, it made me nervous and forced me to think about things I just didn’t have the bandwidth to address during my senior year.

On the car ride to the beach, the conversation quite naturally turned to the potential for sexual conquests during the trip. We had an entire house to ourselves right off the beach. There was no need for drunk girls to drive back to some far off motel when our lavish pad was a small stumble over a sand dune away. Face it, the logistics for sex were about as perfect as they can get.

Bryce: “So what do you think the guys would say if I brought a dude back?”

Me: “I don’t know. But they’ve had a year to get used to the idea. So it might be awkward, but it certainly wouldn’t be a surprise. Plus, girls love open-minded guys, so having a bi-guy around might be a plus. Is that what you are hoping for?”

Bryce: “Well kinda, yeah. I haven’t been too open about it, but over the last year I’ve had the ability to try both flavors, and the male flavor is ahead at this point.”

Me: “Why is that?”

Bryce: “Well, guys don’t scream like a little bitch when I fuck them. Every time I’ve had sex with a woman, I’ve either not been able to finish or if I did they have made me feel as if I just put them through the worst misery of their lives.”

Me: “Um, not that I’m the expert, but maybe you’re doing it wrong. Just because those bitches doing porn can take two guys and a chainsaw all at once, doesn’t mean that’s reality.”

Bryce: “It’s not like that. I’m kind and gentle. I go slow. I talk to them and make sure I’m not pushing them too far. But every time, I get shut down. But when I’m with a guy, it just seems to work, and instead of crying out in pain, they are just screaming for more. I mean, you can understand that one result is more gratifying than the other, right?”

Me: “Well other guys don’t seem to have this problem. Not to get all analytical on you, but maybe you have just dated an odd set of data points when it comes to this issue.”

Bryce: “Well other guys don’t have a ten-inch dick like I do.”

Me: “Oh shut the fuck up. You’re dick isn’t ten inches.”

Bryce: “Wanna bet?”

Me: “I’ve seen you naked a million times, and I’d be lying to say I’ve never noticed it, but come on. It’s about the same as mine, and I know damn well my dick is not ten inches.”

Bryce: “You’ve never seen me hard. I’m a grower, not a shower.”

Me: “I think you are just makin’ shit up in order to switch teams. You are either a braggart or a liar, but you certainly don’t have a ten-inch dick. If you want to fuck dudes, just fuck dudes, but you don’t have to make up some shit that your dick is just too big for pussy.”

Bryce: “You are just jealous because my dick is a statistical anomaly.”

Me: “Maybe your problem with pussy is that you are the geekiest math major on the planet who talks about his dick like it’s a word problem on a statistics final. But hey, if that scholarship doesn’t come through, you could always fund grad school doing porn. I mean really. Ten-inches ought to get you some time on the audition couch. And being bi, you could do gay and straight porn.”

Bryce: “I hadn’t thought about that, but you DO have a point.”

We both died laughing at the thought. But the awkward silence that followed made me a bit tense. What do you say when you are confused about your own sexuality and your bi-leaning-gay best friend has just revealed to you that he has a ten-inch dick? And then, straight to the jugular…BOOM!

Bryce: “So what are you hoping for this week?”

Me: “Oh, I don’t know.”

Bryce: “No, seriously. Come on. Be honest.”

Me: “Honestly? I’m hoping for nothing. Nada. Zilch. Yes, I’m looking forward to the week. I’m looking forward to the memories and spending time with you guys. But I’m not interested in starting something I can’t finish. I’m moving away after graduation, and I’m not planning on starting a relationship at the beach during spring break. Plus, it’s no secret I’m a virgin, and I just don’t want my first time to be with some floosy I’m never going to see again. That’s not the kind of memory I’m after.”

Bryce: “OK. OK. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Me: “It’s not that I’m upset. It’s just that school seems to come so easily to you guys. You’ve been on the Dean’s List every semester you have been here. I’ve been on academic probation twice. It’s taking everything I have just to graduate, and I haven’t prioritized dating or relationships. Most of my free time has been spent with you guys. Not that I regret that. But from a relationship standpoint, the five of you are all I’ve got. Well, and a diploma without honors.”

Bryce: “Well that’s your punishment for being stupid enough to be born into a poor family that sent you to public school in the sticks.”

Me: “Amen to that.”

Bryce: “But it’s not like you haven’t dated. You’ve had plenty of chances to belly up to the bar. What held you back? You’re not religious. You don’t have some moral problem with it. We’ve worked out together for almost four years, and you’re buff as shit. It’s not like you can’t get any.”

Me: “You know how people get really drunk on some particular type of alcohol, like tequila, and after they violently puke their guts up, they wake up so hungover the next day and swear they are never going to drink tequila again.”

Bryce: “Yeah, go on.”

Me: “You remember that girl Jenny I dated sophomore year?”

Bryce: “Vaguely.”

Me: “She’s my tequila. One night I tried to go down on her. I put my tongue on it, and I puked right there in her bed.”

Bryce: “Holy shit! Pussy makes you retch! How come we never heard about this? I mean sure, it’s embarrassing as shit, but really dude. You’ve been holding out on us!”

Me: “Oh god Bryce, it was awful. We had been drinking trashcan punch at the party beforehand, and I hurled the nastiest red puke all over her and the bed. I offered to help her clean up, but she just screamed at me. Get out, get out. I mean she was crying so hard, and pointing at the door naked and covered in red vomit. I just followed orders and got the hell out of there. I’ve seen her around, but she has never spoken a word to me sense.”

Bryce: “Dude, that’s messed up.”

Me: “Yep.”

Bryce: “You gotta get back up on that horse. You ain’t never going to stay in a relationship if you can’t successfully go downtown. Women aren’t going to suck your dick if you aren’t willing to tongue-whack their bean. Is that what you want? A life devoid of blow jobs? Dude, you’re going to kill yourself.”

Me: “I know. I know. Depressing. But here you are leaning towards men, and you, of all people, are lecturing me on pussy. Really?”

Bryce: “Hey the ten-inch dick kills them every time, but there is nothing wrong with my tongue.”

Me: “Oh stop with the ten-inch dick horseshit.”

Bryce: “I offered to bet you it was ten inches, but you didn’t take me up on it you little pussy.”

Me: “I didn’t take you up on it because you are just full of shit.”

Bryce: “If I’m full of shit, then bet me.”

Me: “Bet you what, you lying sack of shit?”

Bryce: “A blow job.”

Me: “What? Are you fucking crazy? Just drop it.”

Bryce: “OK. OK. So have you tried it since?”

Me: “Nope. I mean a finger here and there, but nope, never put my face anywhere near the vicinity since.”

Bryce: “So seriously, when was the last time you got your dick sucked?”

Me: “That girl Jill. We dated briefly, very briefly last year. She blew me. But without reciprocation, she quickly lost interest. Plus, I came in her mouth and she spit it out. Ungrateful bitch!”

Bryce: “Seriously. That’s the best part.”

Me: “How would you….oh. Never mind.”

Bryce: “So you haven’t had your dick sucked in over a year?”

Me: “You make it sound like I should be on some black and white commercial with Sally Struthers narrating and flies all over the place.”

Bryce: “Hey, at least those kids have eaten something in the last year.”

Me: “You know you are going to hell right?”

Bryce: “I may be going to hell, but at least I am getting my dick sucked between now and then.”

Me: “You have a point.”

Bryce exited the freeway so we could get gas and take a piss. The gas station was old and disgusting. The men’s room had an open trough urinal that smelled like a thousand truckers who forgot to flush on a hot day. I’ve seen Bryce’s dick countless times, but never after having a 50-mile-long discussion about the woes of it being some ten-inch pussy slayer. He let out a little laugh.

Bryce: “Gotcha curious.”

Me: “Yeah, as to how much of a liar you are.”

Bryce: “See, but you admit that you are curious.”

Me: “Look, if you told me you pooped perfectly spherical shits, I would be curious too, but I wouldn’t want to see it.”

Bryce: “OK. You keep telling yourself that.”

Me: “What exactly are you implying?”

Bryce: “That if we are going to make it to the rental office before it closes, we better get back on the road.”

Bryce got behind the wheel, and we were back on our way.

Me: “So you say you are leaning towards men. There’s more to a relationship than just sex. So are you attracted to the idea of being in a relationship with a man?”

Bryce: “Well, that’s kinda the point of being bi. Yeah, I’m attracted to both, and in more than just a sexual way.”

Me: “So besides the fact that your ruler is broken and you seem to only date women with pixie-stick-sized vaginal canals, what do you like about dating men?”

Bryce: “Men are just more open. I mean look, do you think the kind of conversation we’ve been having for the last hour could have ever happened with a woman?”

Me: “Probably not.”

Bryce: “OK. Well you’ve been holding out on us with the pussy vomit story. And you came clean. Well maybe clean isn’t the right word for it. I’ve been hesitant to tell you guys too much about my dating life. I mean, I didn’t want to freak you all out. I love every one of you, and don’t want to push you away. But since we are sharing embarrassing stories, here goes.”

Me: “Do I really want to hear this?”

Bryce: “Look I listened to you talk about vomiting all over some girl’s pussy, you are going to listen to my story now. Fair?”

Me: “Touché. Proceed.”

Bryce: “OK, well I was with this guy. It was our second date. We fooled around a bit on the first date, but didn’t fuck each other. But let’s just say he got a preview of what he would be dealing with if he did.”

Me: (Mockingly singing in the style of Sir Mix-A-Lot) “My anaconda don’t want none unless you’ve got buns, hun.”

Bryce: “Shut up. Did I interrupt your story? Thank you. So for our second date, he did some preparation so that he would be able to handle what he knew was coming.”

Me: “What? He shoved a bottle of Astroglide up his ass?”

Bryce: “No, he douched so that there wouldn’t be any shit residue.”

Me: “Oh, this is really gross.”

Bryce: “Really, Mr. Pussy Vomit? I’m being gross? Look, what’s gross is when they don’t do that. It’s much cleaner and it allows you to have good clean sex. However, sometimes when you do that, all the water you put in doesn’t always make it out, which can lead to some unexpected discharges.”

Me: “At least my discharge was colorful.”

Bryce: “Shut up. I’m talking here. So I’m fucking him, and I pull out. And right afterwards, he just spews shitty douche water all over me and the bed. Is this story sounding familiar?”

Me: “I’m thinking I need some fresh air.”

Bryce: “Look, here’s the point. Instead of crying, and screaming, and pointing, and never speaking again, we laughed so hard. I just picked up the sheets wiped us both off, and we headed to the shower, rinsed off, and fucked like bunnies in the shower. Sure, it was gross. But with men, they don’t freak out. Things don’t have to be perfect like a movie. Shit can be funny…literally. And nothing stopped us from having great sex. Men are just easier to deal with. Shit goes wrong, and you just deal with it and keep fucking. I kinda like it.”

Me: “So are you still dating him?”

Bryce: “We aren’t dating, but we are still friends. And we do mess around every once in a while.”

Me: “Sounds awfully casual.”

Bryce: “Well it is. I have been honest with him about grad school. He’s here and isn’t going to leave his job. So we are just being up front about everything. You just said the same thing about not wanting to start something you can’t finish.”

Me: “So do you love him?”

Bryce: “No, but he’s shown me that that emotion is certainly not out of the question with a man.”

Me: “So is he gay?”

Bryce: “I don’t know. When I asked him, he was choking on my ten-inch dick, and I couldn’t really understand what he was saying.”

Me: “You know, hell may be coming sooner than you think.”

Bryce: “Sorry, I couldn’t hear what you were saying due to my mind being so full of pity for my friend’s unsucked dick.”

Me: “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you wanted to fix that for me.”

Bryce: “Is that an invitation?”

Me. “No. Just an observation.”

Bryce: “Well if I did, Jill and pussy-vomit girl, whatever her name is, would be a distant memory. Ain’t no blow job like a man-to-man blow job.”

Me: “Well you should know.”

Bryce: “Damn straight, no pun intended.”

Me: “I’m confused here. So if we make that bet and you DO have a ten-inch dick, does that me I’m giving YOU a blow job, or you are giving ME a blow job?”

Bryce: “Well since you know I’m lying, obviously, you would get the blow job if my dick wasn’t the full ten inches.”

Me: “But what if I lose? There is no way I could handle something that big.”

Bryce: (Mockingly) “Oh honey if you gag on my big fat cock, I promise not to yell at you and send you away like pussy-vomit girl.”

Me: “Fuck you!”

Bryce: “Sure, but I gotta douche first.”

We pulled into the parking lot of the rental agency office. After signing more forms than I care to remember and providing a deposit so high it should be illegal, we got our keys and headed to the beach house.

Me: “I’m glad you are telling me all of this. We’ve all known that you were feeling some things out, and we didn’t want to pry. We all figured you would tell us what you wanted to when the time was right.”

Bryce: “I’m just glad I have friends that are so understanding and willing to be there for me, even if they do think I’m a big fat liar.”

Me: “Well you could prove your honesty without resorting to some silly bet.”

Bryce: “Oh, I bet you would love that.”

Me: “Oh sure. Yeah, every guy loves to find out his dick is smaller than everyone else’s. Yep, that’s the dream we all share, right?”

Bryce: “Well if we don’t get you cured of your pussy allergy, you might turn gay yourself.”

Me: “Would that classify as conversion therapy? Here son, let me teach you how to lick pussy without throwing up.”

We laughed uncontrollably to the point that Bryce nearly ran off the road. Despite our antics, we made it safely to the beach house and got settled in. Instead of heading directly to the liquor store, we decided to stay in for the evening, drink a couple of bottles of wine we brought with us, and order a pizza.

Bryce: “So have you ever seen gay porn?”

Me: “I’ve seen two guys going at it with a girl, but never just guys doing each other. Why?”

Bryce: “Well, it wasn’t like I accidentally hit the gay button on PornHub one night. I was curious, and I sought it out. But it did teach me something valuable, which was that I was genuinely turned on by it. I couldn’t deny that I was attracted to what I saw. And that is what started the internal conversation for me.”

Me: “Are you saying you think I’m in the closet?”

Bryce: “No, if you were in the closet, it would at least mean you were inside the house. What I’m saying is I think you are outside the house longingly looking to get in. You seem so sexually detached that you aren’t even to the stage of being in the closet. I think you said it best in that your head has just been focused on keeping yourself above water academically, and you have just never even reached the point of asking the questions. It’s senior year. Seriously, are you going to fail any of your classes this semester?”

Me: “No.”

Bryce: “Then really, what’s your excuse?”

Me: “So what are you saying?”

Bryce: “I’m saying live a little. Watch gay porn. Watch straight porn. Fuck some chicks. Get over your pussy allergy. Fuck some dudes. I don’t care. Just love yourself enough to allow yourself to get in the game. Nobody’s gonna care if you are gay. Look at the way I’ve been treated. Did I lose a single friend?”

Me: “No.”

Bryce: “Do I seem happier and more self-confident?”

Me: “Yeah, so much so that you think you have a ten-inch dick. You are confident to the point of delusion.”

Bryce: “You don’t know that, yet.”

Me: “So what? Are you offering to be my gay Sherpa leading me through the wilderness of douche-water-spewing assholes?”

Bryce: “If that’s what you want.”

The doorbell rang, and Bryce went to get the pizza. I opened one of the bottles of wine. After the fun but grueling conversation of the afternoon, I was ready to chill-out a bit. We plowed through the entire pizza in no time flat and the first bottle of wine was down for the count shortly thereafter. Bryce pulled his laptop out of his backpack and managed to figure out the wireless connection to the big television in the living room. While I was opening the second bottle, I started to hear sex noises coming from the living room.

Me: “What have we here?”

Bryce: “Your Sherpa is going to lead you. Here, sit down.”

Me: “People can see that from the beach. Let me close the shutters. We don’t need to get kicked out before the week even begins.”

Bryce: “Sherpa say you too paranoid.”

Me: “Me say Sherpa is going to lead me to cold death on high mountain.”

Bryce: “Just shut up and watch.”

Me: “Holy shit, his dick is huge.”

Bryce: “And he’s not even hard yet. He’s a grower AND a shower.”

Me: “You’ve seen this one before?”

Bryce: “Yeah, it’s one of my favorites.”

Me: “Why?”

Bryce: “Just watch.”

Me: “Holy shit, that guy is swallowing the whole thing. How is that possible.”

Bryce: “Practice. And maybe some teeth removal.”

Me: “Is that real?”

Bryce: “Most porn doesn’t have the budget for CGI, so yeah. It’s real.”

Me: “Does he have any gag reflex?”

Bryce: “Apparently not.”

Me: “Nobody’s ever sucked my dick like that.”

Bryce: “No woman has ever sucked my dick like that.”

Me: “Wait, so are you saying some guy has given you a blow job this good?”

Bryce: “Sure. I mean not all guys are good at it, but most guys are pretty enthusiastic.”

Me: “So do you like doing it? Sucking I mean.”

Bryce: “Sure. It’s fun. And it’s gratifying to get the other person off. Plus, there’s the little surprise at the end, or in some cases not so little.”

Me: “So you’ve swallowed another guy’s cum?”

Bryce: “Don’t act so surprised. You expected what’s her name to swallow yours. Why wouldn’t a guy giving a blow job do the same?”

Me: “I don’t know. I guess I just never thought about it.”

Bryce: “This is called skull-fucking.”

Me: “A rather appropriate description I must admit.”

Bryce: “So is this doing anything for you?”

Me: “Are you asking if I am hard?”

Bryce: “Sure.”

Me: “Well yeah. I mean the thought of having that done to your dick is certainly enticing.”

Bryce: “Even though its being done by another man.”

Me: “Didn’t we talk about the fact that my dick hasn’t been sucked in a year.”

Bryce: “Oh yeah. Sorry. Didn’t mean to rub it in or anything.”

Me: “Sure you didn’t. So are you hard?”

Bryce: “Gettin’ there.”

Me: “Well I’m going to pull my dick out. You can’t pull yours out because if you did, it would ruin that little bet we haven’t made yet.”

Bryce: “Yet being the operative word.”

Me: “Keep you dick in your pants Sherpa.”

Bryce: “Well you may not be ten inches, but that’s a nice cock. I’ve never seen you with an erection.”

Me: “Thanks I guess. Always nice to have the gold medal winner lean down from the center podium and congratulate you on your second-place finish.”

Bryce: “Your self-pity is endearing. At least if you get over that pussy allergy, you can fuck chicks without them crying like a wounded animal.”

Me: “So is an ass just more pliable than a vagina?”

Bryce: “Well, not having a vagina myself, I don’t know that I can say for sure, but I think it just has more to do with guys having a higher threshold of pain.”

Me: “So does he end up fucking this guy?”

Bryce: “Nope. This is just an oral scene. One of the best I’ve ever come across, but no, they don’t fuck each other.”

Me: “He must be getting close.”

Bryce: “It’s looks like you are getting close.”

Me: “What? You want to tip me over the edge? I mean you were going to lose that bet anyway, so you might as well suck it.”

Bryce didn’t wait for further permission. He knelt between my legs, pulled my shorts all the way off, bent over, and started sucking my dick down to the base. With one hand he pulled on my aching ball sack, and with the other he jacked my cock along with his warm, slobbery mouth. After nearly four years of friendship, I never dreamed of us in such a situation, and yet, here we were. And surprisingly, it wasn’t so strange. Like it maybe should have been this way a long time ago. I closed my eyes, and just let the endorphins take over. Hours of sex talk had stored up a torrent of cum in my balls and that mouth was about to unleash it all. My breathing was getting heavier, and Bryce could tell I was about to blow. He sped up a little and increased the pressure. I instinctively grabbed the back of his head and pushed his face into my crotch and held it firm and still while I gushed spurt after spurt of cum down his throat. I let go of his head and he stood up, smacking his lips to signify his utter enjoyment of what had just happened.

Once my eyes were open again and I had reclaimed my grip on reality, Bryce unzipped his shorts and pulled out his hard dick.

Bryce: “You lose.”

Me: “Oh wow! That is fucking enormous. No wonder those poor girls cried. You weren’t fucking them, you were impaling them. Yeah, I’ll agree. That’s downright scary.”

Bryce: “So are you going to suck it since you lost the bet.”

Me: “Oh, sorry, I left my ruler back at campus. Sorry, no verification, no sucky for you.”

Bryce went to the table, got the rental agreement which was printed out on 8.5” x 11” paper, rolled it up longways into a tube, stuck his dick in it, and asked:

Bryce: “Is there more than an inch of paper beyond the head of my dick?”

Me: “Ah, no.”

Bryce: “Then suck it.”

Me: “When did we make this bet exactly.”

Bryce: “You’re just stalling.”

Me: “Sit down. I’m not sure I can do this with you standing up.”

We switched places and I did the best I could to mimic what he had done to me. But that joke earlier about practice and missing teeth was turning into more than just a joke. I could barely get my mouth around the head of that monster. It was like swallowing a small orange. I grabbed the shaft with my hand and started jacking him. Unlike when I jacked my own cock, my fingers didn’t touch. I grabbed his balls with the other hand just as he had done to me.

Bryce: “Pull down on ‘um. Hard.”

I mumbled something that was unintelligible due to my mouth being full up with dickhead. But I complied and pulled down on his balls. He let out a deep moan of approval and egged me on to pull even harder. He leaned back on the couch, spread his arms out to either side, and let his head fall back. I had seen Bryce a million times, but never from the vantage point of a sexual being. I noticed his body differently. The downy nature of his blonde chest hair. The perkiness of his nipples. The tuffs of arm pit hair. The smell of his crotch. You are always told, sex changes things. And it does. And it did. I saw him differently. I was a lousy cocksucker. This wasn’t deep throating. I was like the baby pool of oral sex. But I was doing the best I could, and despite my amateurish ways, Bryce was getting close. Even a bad blow job is still pretty good. I wasn’t too keen on swallowing his cum, but I wanted to please him. I wanted to be responsible for giving him the sexual gratification he had given me. And despite my difficulties, and the mammoth size of the dick impaling my throat, I didn’t feel in the least bit like throwing up. I might have had a pussy allergy, but I certainly wasn’t allergic to dick.

Bryce: “Here it comes.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before the back of my throat was hit by a firehose of hot cum that just didn’t seem to stop. His dick pulsated in my mouth over and over until I lost count of the cum shots. My jaw was propped open so wide by his dick that I couldn’t actually swallow the lake of cum in my mouth until I pulled off and was able to close my lips. The lake overflowed and some of the cum ran out the sides of my mouth. Bryce stood up silently, wrapped his arms around my back, and pulled me tight up against his body smashing his still hard ten-inch monster between us. He leaned into my face, stuck his tongue out, and gently licked the cum off of the corners of my mouth.

Bryce: “It’s been a long day. Let’s go to bed.”

I didn’t argue. In fact, I said nothing. We silently went to the master bedroom, took off what little clothes remained, shut off the lights and crawled under the covers. Bryce spooned me. The tickle of his chest hair on my back felt masculine, and good. His semi erect dick pressing up against by ass was a pleasant foreshadowing of what was still to come. And his breath on the back of my neck made my hairs stand on end. He whispered:

Bryce: “So how’s that pussy allergy going?”

Me: “Incurable. Definitely incurable.”

Bryce: “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Me: “No you aren’t you lying sack of shit.”

Bryce: “Well I wasn’t lying about my dick.”

Me: “Well that’s for sure. Hey…Thanks.”

Bryce: “Would your Sherpa lead you astray?”

Me: “No, no he wouldn’t.”


Tradd St. Croix

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